


How To Be Yours

by Pogue



Category: Fast & Furious (Movies), Hobbs & Shaw (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Luke doesn't know who his soulmate is but Deckard does, M/M, Misunderstandings, Shobbs Summer Fic Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25010776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pogue/pseuds/Pogue
Summary: When Luke woke up in the hospital after being blown out of a four-story window, he wasn't expecting to be met with a world of color.It should be one of the happiest days of his life, except there's just one problem... He has no idea who his soulmate is.Soulmate AU where you see color the first time you meet your soulmate.
Relationships: Luke Hobbs/Deckard Shaw
Comments: 49
Kudos: 204
Collections: Shobbs Summer 2020 Fic Exchange





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Omnivorous_Reader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnivorous_Reader/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a gift for Omnivorous_Reader for the Shobbs Summer Fic Exchange. Hope you like it! I'm going to try and finish the rest of it by the end of the weekend! 🤞🤞🤞

It’s not that Luke didn’t believe in soulmates; he just didn’t think he’d find _his_ soulmate.

He wasn’t like Dom or Letty, who grew up in a world bathed in color. He wasn’t like Brian and Mia, who found each other as adults and bent the rest of the world around their bond.

That was the kind of life Luke dreamed of when he was younger.

But when that didn’t happen, he built a life for himself without a soulmate. He met Talia, a wonderful woman who also hadn’t found her soulmate. They both felt the same way, that happiness didn’t begin and end with finding your “One.” It was a relief, actually. Luke didn’t feel like he was missing out on something as much when he was with her.

And when she gave birth to their daughter, Luke's life felt truly whole.

But then, after three wonderful years, Talia met her soulmate. Accidentally grazing hands with a stranger as they both reached for the same pear at the grocery store.

“It’s like I’d been blind my whole life.” She’d told Luke, her eyes shining in a way they never shined for him.

He didn’t hold it against her for leaving him. They say that everything changes when you find your soulmate. But he did hold her in contempt for abandoning Sam.

Even if she didn’t truly love Luke, she could have at least stayed in touch for their daughter’s sake.

But she didn’t.

Luke never knew whether or not to be happy that Sam was too young to remember her mom. 

It pained him to remember Talia, as Luke was sure it would have pained Sam. But growing up without a second parent brought on its own hurt.

After that, Luke determined that he would never take on another partner. He couldn’t risk Sam getting attached to another parent only for them to leave once they found their soulmate.

He couldn’t do that to Sam. And he couldn’t do it to himself again either.

Years went by and Luke found happiness in Sam, and fulfillment in his work.

And if he felt a little tinge of pain whenever one of his coworkers found their soulmate, or when he saw how happy Toretto and his team were together? Well… He was only human.

But then Owen Shaw’s older brother literally and metaphorically threw a flash grenade into Luke’s life. And after falling four stories and landing on a SUV, his monochromatic world faded to black.

When he opened his eyes again, he was staring up at the white tiled roof of a hospital room. He squeezed his eyes shut. Everything hurt. 

“Glad to see you’re awake.” A feminine voice chimed.

Luke opened his eyes again to greet the nurse. But when he saw her, his heart nearly stuttered to a halt.

It wasn’t her beauty. Luke could have seen that even without color. But her clothes. Turquoise scrubs with pink and purple flowers.

Luke whipped his head around the room, suddenly realizing that he could _see_ everything. The blue sky outside, the pale green latex gloves on one of the workstations. All those beautiful things had been there the entire time, he just hadn’t been able to see it.

“Are you alright?” Anne, according to her nametag, asked as she stepped closer to the bed to check his vitals.

Luke turned his attention back to Anne. “Are you--?” He looked around the room again, almost worried that the colors would fade again. “Do you see them? The colors?"

She looked confused for a moment, glancing around the space before realization hit and she turned back to Luke with a smile.

“Aw, you met your soulmate, didn’t you?”

Her smile faltered at the look of hope in his eyes. “Oh, it’s not me sweetie. But this happens at hospitals sometimes. People come in, encounter dozens of people, and realize their soulmate was among them. Did anything change before the accident?”

Luke thought back. It was dark, and his office didn’t have a lot of color to begin with. But he felt like he would have noticed even the remotest of changes. 

“No.” He eventually said.

Anne nodded. She began checking the machines, ensuring that he was recovering. “Well then it could have been another patient or a member of our staff. I’ll ask around.”

Luke was still busy trying to process all the new sights, it really was like he’d been blind until now, that he nearly missed her answer.

“Can you get me a staff and patient list? I can go through the contacts and--”

“Hospitals have certain rules in place when it comes to these things.” Anne gently cut in. “We want to respect everyone’s privacy, but if your soulmate is here chances are they’re just as excited to see you as you are them.”

Her words were most likely meant to calm Luke, but they did the opposite. The thought that his soulmate was somewhere here made him want to climb out of the bed and search room to room until he found them.

But his injuries and the stern side-eye he was getting from Anne made him slump back into the pillows behind him.

Taking pity on him, Anne added. “Tell you what, I’ll ask around and see if anyone on staff or any new admissions have started seeing color. If they have, I’ll see if they’d be interested in sharing their contact information.”

At least that was something, Luke tried to console himself. He wasn't used to feeling this helpless, this dependent on others, especially for something as life changing as finding his soulmate.

Before Anne left, Luke quietly asked, “Promise you’ll find them?”

She looked back, offering an understanding smile. “Promise.”

* * *

Deckard Shaw believed in soulmates until he was old enough to realize they were the stuff of fairytales.

Sure, some people suddenly see color when they first touch. But that doesn’t mean they’re destined to fall in love. They’re strangers. They don’t know anything about each other. Odds are their “love story” will be over by the end of the week once they realize how fundamentally different they are.

Being someone’s soulmate didn’t mean shit. It certainly didn’t make Deckard’s parents love each other. So why the hell would he revolve his entire life around the idea that there was this magical person out there that was going to make him happy?

Happiness wasn’t something the Shaws seemed destined to achieve. If they wanted it, they had to fight tooth and nail for it themselves.

His siblings seemed to hold out hope at a chance for happiness in their own ways. Hattie followed in Deckard’s footsteps and tried to find happiness working in British Intelligence, (worked out a little bit better for her). Owen never seemed to care much about the idea of soulmates, even when he was little. He chased happiness by taking risky jobs and causing chaos. 

Both of them seemed happy enough. And their happiness was enough for him.

Deckard didn’t care whether he saw color or not. He didn’t need to know what blood looked like against the tiled floor of his target’s kitchen. He just needed them to bleed.

And he certainly didn’t need the full color spectrum to enact revenge against Dominic Toretto and the rest of his team. Toretto had no idea what kind of world he stumbled into when he put Owen in the hospital.

Breaking into the DSS headquarters had been laughably easy to the point that Deckard genuinely thought he might have entered the wrong building.

From there, he bided his time until Agent Hobbs and his teammate left, then made quick work of the various security firewalls and began collecting any information the DSS agent had on Toretto and his team.

It should have been easy. It _was_ easy.

That is until Hobbs came back and started looking for a fight.

Until Deckard’s whole world changed with the vibrant orange and yellow explosion from a flash grenade. Burning, unforgiving colors that made him lose his footing as much as the actual detonation had.

When he peered over the table that had been his shield, the office was lit with a dim luminescent green. Pieces of paper were still burning orange at his feet as he slowly walked around the destroyed space.

The patterned sofas, the wooden desks, even the images of Toretto’s team on the busted computer monitor. Everywhere Deckard looked, in every shadow, there was color.

No fucking way…

He quickly ran to the shattered glass window where Agent Hobbs had been blown through.

Down below, the mountain of a man was lying crushed atop a car. The woman he’d been trying to save was next to him, shouting for help.

Help was a good sign. Help meant that Hobbs was alive.

Deckard ran for the door, fully intent on rushing down and helping. But then he slid to a halt.

What was he doing?

He was the reason his soulma… Agent Hobbs, had been blown out of the building to begin with. They’d literally been fighting only moments before. Nothing had changed since then.

_ But everything had changed. _

Deckard shook off that clinging thought before continuing out of the room. Not to help Hobbs, but to the escape route he’d had planned from the start. He squeezed the flash drive in his hand a little tighter.

He had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think so far!


	2. Chapter 2

“Dad!” Sam called, bursting into the room and throwing herself into his side of the hospital bed. Luke hid his wince from the pain the impact caused. It didn’t matter. He was just happy to see his daughter.

“Hey there kiddo.” Luke wrapped his undamaged arm around her and pulled her closer.

Seeing Sam for the first time since Luke’s world turned to color reminded him of the day she was born.

He loved her with all his heart, but seeing the way the sun shone off her curly dark hair and caught in the colored beads of her sweater made Luke’s chest ache from how much he cared for her. How had he lived his entire life without this?

“Are you okay?” Sam pulled away and stared worriedly at his cast. Luke knew by the end of the day it would be covered in flowers, dragons, and whatever else his daughter deemed fit.

“Nothing I can’t handle, Sammie.” He smiled. “I’ll be back in action by tomorrow.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Anne warned as she entered with a lunch tray.

With his good arm, Luke hoisted Sam onto the bed with him. “That’s Anne, the nurse in charge. Now, don’t be fooled, she may look like a superhero, but she’s been bullying me relentlessly. She’s only playing nice because you’re here.” He whispered playfully, but behind Sam, he sent her a hopeful look.

“All I’ve been doing is bullying him into getting some rest.” Anne chided. But while Sam giggled, she sent Luke a quick nod.

He leaned back into the pillows behind him, a sense of relief making it easier to accept his bedrest.

Luke decided it’d be best to wait and tell Sam about his soulmate until he actually found them. He had a feeling she’d be happy for him, but it was best to make things as simple as possible when the time came.

But Sam just got here, and she wouldn’t be falling asleep for quite a while. Which meant he’d have to wait all day to know who his soulmate was. And he’d already waited so long.

“I brought markers.” Sam dug around in her backpack until she pulled out a plastic bag filled to the brim with all different colors. And Luke could see them now.

He remembered growing up and taking on faith that the various gradients matched the names on each individual marker. As a child, he taught himself that different shades were different colors. That the greys so dark they were nearly black were reds and blues. That the ones that were an off-white were yellows and pinks.

Being able to see every beautiful shade made Luke’s breath hitch.

He wanted to describe all of them to Sam. Tell her how amazing each and every one was. But he’d have to wait. There would be plenty of time once Luke found his soulmate.

For now, Luke was content to watch Sam select the markers by their names alone. Marveling at how the ones she chose matched and complemented one another.

* * *

Deckard had gone to the hardware store to gather supplies. He needed more gauze and an extra med kit just in case Toretto proved to be more of a nuisance than he anticipated.

At least, that had been the original plan. Instead, Deckard found himself peering out from under his ball cap at the wall of color swabs.

There were just… so many of them. With each sheet subtly different from the next, like the shiny scales on a fish. It was overwhelming.

When he was little, before he decided soulmates weren’t real, Deckard used to think finding his would change everything. That they’d somehow be a way out of the hell that was his childhood. Something gentle in a very unkind world.

But his soulmate never showed up. And Deckard realized there was no point in waiting for someone to help him escape. He had to do that himself. For his sake, and for his siblings.

His hands itched to reach out and select some of the colors. Maybe burgundy, or a teal blue. Something to have and look at and think about...

Deckard slid his hands back into his pocket and left the store. He didn’t need to think about his soulmate. He shouldn’t be thinking about him. It would only distract from taking down Toretto.

Soulmate or not, Luke Hobbs helped put Owen in a coma. And that made him an enemy.

The good news was, Hobbs was in the hospital. A chess piece conveniently knocked off the board.

There would be no reason for Deckard to cause him anymore harm. Just as long as he stayed in that damned hospital until it was all over.

* * *

Luke wanted out of this hospital. He didn’t care that it had barely been a full day. He didn’t care that half his body was in a cast.

Sitting in this bed and waiting for news from either Toretto or his soulmate was driving him crazy. He was never one to just sit back and wait for things to happen. He needed to do something.

“You’re still awake.”

Luke looked over to where Anne was standing in the doorway, pressing a clipboard to her chest.

“Hey.” He whispered, trying to sit up a little more without disturbing where Sam was napping by his side. “Everything alright?”

Anne nodded and hesitantly stepped further into the room. “Long shift, but nothing too terrible. Only had one patient throw up on me today. So, not too terrible, all things considered.”

Luke snorted. His sister was a nurse, so he understood the less-than glamorous lives of those in the medical profession. “Yeah well, at least the crocs are easily washable.”

The nurse gave a tired smile down to her footwear and nodded. But when she looked up at Hobbs, the smile had faltered.

“I asked around the hospital.” She began, stepping closer to the bed. Luke could already tell he wasn’t going to like what she had to say.

He swallowed. “And…?”

For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. Just ran her finger along the edge of the clipboard in her hands. Luke was about to say something when,

“There’s no one.” She glanced up at him. “I talked to the staff, the patients, I even reached out to the EMTs who brought you in. But no one else has reported suddenly being able to see color.”

Silence fell upon the room again as Luke processed her words.

“But…” He frowned. “How...? What does that mean?”

Anne gave an apologetic shrug. “Soulmates aren’t a science. It usually happens at first touch. Sometimes it happens on sight. Sometimes there’s a delay. But sometimes…”

She swallowed and looked down at her clipboard. From where he was sitting, Luke was able to see that it was blank. She was just using it to have something to distract herself from this conversation.

“Go on.” Luke spoke softly.

Anne pressed her mouth into a thin line, clearly trying to find the right words.

“Sometimes, after experiencing some kind of trauma, people see color without having met their soulmate. There are studies that connect the phenomenon to cases involving PTSD, but like I said, it’s not a science.”

Luke’s first instinct was to laugh. To tell her that he had been through far worse physical abuse during his career as a DSS agent, but people didn’t usually like to hear about that. But the words remained trapped in his throat. 

That couldn’t be it. Luke looked around the room. At the wallpaper, the plastic pitcher, Sam’s backpack. The poor lighting did nothing to dim the colors of Anne scrubs. Colors that Luke thought meant something.

He thought… He felt… 

“There are people you can talk to.” Anne offered gently.

Luke shook his head. “No. No that can’t be it, I--.”

“Mr. Hobbs,” Anne gently cut him off. She pulled a pamphlet out of her pocket and handed it to him. “I’m sorry.”

It looked like one of those ‘ _How to Handle the Passing of a Loved One_ ’ brochures. That’s what it felt like, anyway. Except this pamphlet was all about what to do when you see color but haven’t encountered your soulmate. The front read, ‘ _Loneliness: In Color_.’ Charming.

Luke hated that this was a common enough occurrence that it warranted a brochure. He wanted this to be some kind of fluke. 

Any minute now, he was going to look up and see his soulmate standing across from him. He could feel it.

Luke set the pamphlet down on the tray beside his bed. He didn’t say anything as Anne left. Didn’t look up or acknowledge the sympathetic stare she gave him.

He didn’t want pity right now.

He wanted his soulmate.

* * *

Deckard decided he hated Luke Hobbs.

It was bad enough the man decided to drag himself out of the hospital to help Toretto and his little family. (He had his loyalties; Deckard could respect that).

But to have his own soulmate so mirthfully escort him to prison, to never be seen again? 

Positively heartless.

Not that Deckard cared. It's not like their relationship had the smoothest start or offered much promise to begin with. But still, he felt like their status deserved to at least be acknowledged.

The grey concrete of his isolated, solitary cell was almost comforting. It reminded Deckard of life before Luke Hobbs. Before his world bled into color and things became far less… well, black and white, for lack of a better phrase.

Even the world outside the small window of his cell was comfortingly monochromatic. With the exception of the red lights from the automated guns and security cameras that were trained on him.

Deckard couldn't blame the prison's overkill. He knew he could break out of here, given the right opportunity. But it wasn't going to happen while he was stuck in a concrete box with spreader restraints on his wrists.

So he'd bide his time, and try very hard not to think about Luke Hobbs. His soulmate. Who dumped him here and acted like Deckard meant absolutely nothing to him. The bastard.

At least the other inmates would be a welcome distraction once he was transferred to the main holding cells, Deckard thought. He shifted, trying to make himself comfortable on the concrete bench that served as the only furniture in the room.

He could handle a few weeks in solitary until then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you all think!


	3. Chapter 3

Three months. Three months in solitary.

Deckard had been alone for so long that the color of the guards’ eyes and the yellow directional tracks on the prison concrete actually surprised him. Somewhere during the endless days spent trying not to lose his mind, he’d nearly forgotten.

It was a world of overstimulation as he was dragged from his cell, hosed down, shaved, given a new jumpsuit, and shoved into a brand-new box. This time with a bigger window and louder neighbors.

Deckard waited until his cell door was slammed shut before sliding down on his bed (concrete still, but this time with a thin sleeping mat). The orange from his jumpsuit glared up at him. It was one of the only colors he’d seen in isolation. Its blaring neon hue made the rest of the world appear still in monochrome. But now that he was out, there really was no way to ignore his new vision anymore. He let out a shuddering sigh and lied down, his back facing the door.

His body shook again. Deckard tried to convince himself it was because of the chilled temperature in the holding cells. It _was_ cold, but as his body continued to tremble Deckard knew that wasn’t the reason.

He was tired and angry. It had been a long few months of trying to hold himself together, fighting off the fear that he would never see the outside of that concrete cell ever again. He didn’t know if Owen was alright, or if his brother had even _woken up_ from his coma.

Deckard had held it together for three months. He could let himself fall apart for one night.

He’d have to be ready to meet the neighbors tomorrow.

* * *

"Dad?"

Luke looked up from his book and blinked, his mind returning from the pages and back to reality. “What’s up, kiddo? Math getting you down?”

Sam fiddled with her pencil and shook her head. Her curls hid her face somewhat, but despite that Luke could still tell she was avoiding eye contact.

He set down his book, giving his daughter his full attention. “Everything alright?”

She nudged away her notebook and tentatively looked up at him. “Where’s your soulmate?”

Luke hoped the surprise didn’t show on his face. Years of experience in interrogation helped him develop a pretty good poker face, but apparently all the training in the world can’t prepare you for a child’s curiosity.

He hadn’t told Sam about his soulmate. Not at the hospital, not in the year afterwards. He didn’t want to burden her with the thought that her dad will never have a soulmate. Or worse, burden her with the thought that the same thing might happen to her.

“What made you think of that?” 

Sam leaned over and dug around in her backpack until she pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper. Upon closer inspection, Luke realized it was the brochure Anne had given him. “I found this in your room at the hospital.”

Ah.

Luke felt his daughter stare at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. He took the flyer and tried to straighten out the creases. 

“Well,” He swallowed. “I thought I’d found my soulmate, but I was wrong.”

“But that’s not supposed to happen.” Sam leaned across the table. The innocence and simplicity of childhood was both a wonderful and devastating thing. “Jessica from my History class said you can’t make mistakes when it comes to soulmates.”

Luke nodded. Up until recently he’d thought the same. “That’s true. When you meet someone and the world goes to color, they’re your soulmate. There’s no mistaking that. But sometimes, when you get hurt really bad like daddy did, your brain suddenly lets you see color without having met your soulmate.”

Sam’s looked down and furrowed her brow, processing the information.

Luke hated that she had to learn about things like this so early. Kids should be able to believe in soulmates without having to worry about any catches or ways it could go wrong.

“But…” She looked up again. “Then how will you know when you’ve met your soulmate for real?”

That very question had haunted Luke for a month after he was discharged from the hospital. Because there was always the chance his soulmate was still out there and living in a grey-scale world, and he’d have no way of knowing when he met them. But odds are they didn’t exist. He just didn't want Sam to know that was a possibility just yet. 

He shrugged, offering a comforting smile. “I don’t know.”

He’d made peace with the fact that he would never have a soulmate. If anything, he could at least be grateful that he was able to see the world in color. Not everyone was so lucky. 

Sam got very quiet for a moment. Then she pushed her chair back, the legs scraping across the kitchen floor. Luke opened his mouth to chide her for that, but got distracted when he suddenly had an armful of his daughter.

Sam wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

Luke didn’t know how to respond. It shouldn’t be the job of the child to console their parent. But Sam was the first person he’d told, and it was nice to know that someone cared. 

He slowly enveloped her in his arms, squeezing her tight. “Thanks, Sweet Pea.” Luke whispered.

He’d find someone to talk to about this. A therapist or one of the counselor’s his work has on the payroll. He didn’t want Sam worrying about him anymore.

* * *

High-security prisons normally allow one hour of exercise. Which translated to the inmates being forced to walk single file in a circle while guards kept guns trained on them until they were forced back to their cells.

But as some big bearded inmate shoved Deckard against a wall conveniently out of the security cameras’ line of sight, he quickly learned that this prison offered some extra opportunities for cardio.

“Fresh meat.” The man grinned, pressing so close to Deckard he could smell the other man’s breath. “‘wanted to be the first to give you a real prison welcome.”

Deckard had lost a little weight while in solitary, but even before prison, this inmate would have been well out of his weight class. It didn’t matter though.

He rolled his eyes. “Is that so.”

There were guards around. But none of them seemed to notice or care about what was happening. Not that Deckard expected any different. He’d caused a lot of problems for multiple governments across the globe. His health and safety probably weren’t high up on their priority list. If anything, they were probably looking for a little payback.

Deckard reached up. His hands didn’t completely wrap around the larger man’s wrists. “Trust me, you don’t want to do this.”

The inmate grinned, revealing a couple gold teeth. “Nah, I really think I-- Aaarrggh!” 

His wrists twisted easily in Deckard’s grip, bones popping and grinding in protest. But Deck wasn’t done. He stomped down, shattering Goldie’s ankle where the foot and the tibia bone met. As the man naturally bent over, he was met halfway by Deckard’s knee, breaking his nose and spattering Deckard’s jumpsuit red.

Suddenly men were shouting. Guards appeared and separated the two of them, but mostly ignored Goldie.

_ Perfect timing. _ Deckard rolled his eyes and let the two guards force him to the ground, pressing a knee in the center of his back. He gritted his teeth, feeling his spine protest at the force grinding down against it.

“Fights between inmates aren’t tolerated here.” One of the security guards asserted in a deep uncaring voice.

“Yeah well he started it.” Deckard muttered. He didn’t miss that the guards only stepped in when it was clear he’d gotten the upper hand. Deckard had no doubts that if Goldie ended up at the victor in their little spat, the guards would have turned a blind eye until it was time to drag him to the infirmary (if he was lucky).

A metal club struck his ribs, causing Deckard to hiss.

“You just got out of solitary, pal.” The second guard warned. “You sure you want to get sent back there so soon?”

Deckard didn’t respond. He just stayed focused on where Goldie was just now crawling to his feet. They made eye contact, and even in his current restrained position on the ground, Deckard could tell that Goldie wasn’t going to be messing with him anytime soon.

A second strike against Deckard’s ribs brought him back to the men pinning him down. “Well?”

Deckard growled. “No.”

Another hit. “No…?”

Deckard knew that he could get out of this hold. The guard was using his knee to balance on top of him. If he rolled to the side, he could knock him to the floor, strike him in the throat, then incapacitate the second guard. Maybe use their own clubs against him. That would be nice.

But where would it get him? Solitary, the infirmary, or the morgue. And none of those options were ideal.

He gritted his teeth. “No. Sir.”

“That’s better.” The guard stood, hoisting Deckard up with him while the other man kept his gun trained on the Brit. “And be sure to play nicer with the other inmates next time, will you?”

Deckard glared, working his jaw.

The security officer wasn’t expecting an answer. He just nodded to his coworker with the gun. “Get him back to his cell.”

The next morning, Deckard found a map of black, blue, and purple bruises all along his ribs from where the guards struck him. They were tender to the touch and made taking deep breaths an especially fun task. 

As the days went by, he watched those bruises fade into ugly yellows. Each new sickening shade reminding him of the man that sent him here.

Deckard had to stop thinking about Luke Hobbs. He had to get over the fact that he found his soulmate. They hate each other. They’ve tried to kill each other. Luke left him here.

None of that seemed to suggest a long happy life together filled with sunshine and rainbows.

Even after Deckard manages to escape from this place, the chances of them seeing each other again were slim to none. There was no point in holding out hope for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are much loved!


	4. Chapter 4

Hobbs prided himself on his adaptability.

He learned to take care of himself when he left his family. And after Talia left him and Sam, he pulled himself back together to take care of his daughter. He even learned to adjust his definition of right, wrong, and family after he met Toretto and his team.

But then Toretto turned on him, and Luke found himself being marched in prison orange toward a holding facility. Mr. Nobody dangled another opportunity to adapt, but he knew it meant being in the man’s pocket. And Hobbs knew enough about Nobody to know that after that deal, he’d have no chance of making things right again. He’d be stuck working in the shadows, never able to help Sam have a normal childhood. It was bad enough already that she’d be without her dad while he was in prison.

Luke tried not to think about that part. He knew what he was doing was the right call. Justice will prevail, and he will see Sam again. Until then, he could be content remembering the techni-colored hair clips she’d started wearing ever since she found out about the soulmate thing. 

So Luke turned Mr. Nobody down. He held his head high as he was led to his cell, ignoring the jeers and threats from the other inmates. Apparently word got out about him working in law enforcement.

He didn’t let any of that get to him though. No matter what prison held for him, he knew he could adapt to it.

“Well, well, well. Luke Hobbs behind bars, will you look at that.”

_ No. _

Luke turned to stare at the cell opposite his own. _No fucking way._

Deckard Shaw grinned at him through their cell doors.

Of course. _Of course_ Mr. Nobody would make sure he was prison neighbors with Shaw. He should have seen this coming honestly. That is, if Shaw was someone worth remembering.

Deckard pointed at him. “You know, that color looks good on you.”

“Yeah well it’ll look a whole of a lot better with your blood on it.” Hobbs growled, distantly noted the dark coppery stains on the Brit’s own jumpsuit. It looked like he’d already gotten a head start when it came to the blood, although Luke wasn’t sure if it was Shaw’s or someone else’s. 

Deckard’s smile turned brittle. “Yeah, good luck with that Hercules.”

“Lawman gone bad huh? Such a cliché.” Shaw scoffed. “Oh well, welcome to the club.”

He knocked his fist against the glass, and Luke swore for a moment he thought Deckard’s gaze darted up and down his frame before turning away.

And maybe it was the anger or frustration of being betrayed by Toretto. Or maybe it was because Luke was looking for a fight, but he really didn’t want Deckard to walk away.

He took a step forward. “I wouldn’t get that twisted son. We ain’t in no club. We got nothing in common.” Deckard turned back. His mouth twitched as he squinted across at him, listening. “And unlike you, I ain’t gonna be here long.”

Shaw planted his feet and cocked his head to the side. “You bring a shovel? Because this is thirty-eight feet of steel and concrete.” He grinned. “Or so I’ve been told.” 

Hearing his own words thrown back at him made Luke bristle. As if to rub just a little more salt in the wound, Deckard mimed shoveling. “Better get to digging.”

Luke huffed and sat down on his bed, wincing at the unforgiving concrete frame. He had a funny feeling tickling the back of his brain, like he was missing something. Like when you can’t remember a word and you feel it on the tip of your tongue but it’s frustratingly out of reach.

It was a weird sensation to have, especially in his current situation. He’d just been wrongfully convicted for someone else’s crime. He didn’t know when he’d be able to see Sam again. So why was the feeling that he was missing something picking at the forefront of his mind?

* * *

Deckard should have seen this coming honestly. Ghosts from his past had a tendency of showing up at the least convenient times. So of course Luke Hobbs would be his latest neighbor.

It _was_ nice to snipe at someone who could give as good as he takes, Deckard begrudgingly admitted. All the other inmates had a pretty limited imagination when it came to insults. In fact, most of them were more interested in starting fights than attempting a verbal sparring match.

Deckard watched Luke out of the corner of his eye. The larger man had been stretched out on his bed for a while, occasionally shifting, trying to find a more comfortable position.

He scoffed, knowing from experience that there was no such thing with those beds.

A few minutes later Hobbs was up again, pacing the room twice before growling and looking around for something to do, clenching and unclenching his fists.

_ Stir crazy already _ . Deckard thought, checking his wrist for a non-existent watch. That had to be a new record. He considered poking fun at that, but he remembered the suffocating feeling of solitary. That caged-in feeling wasn’t something to be mocked.

It occurred to him that this was probably Luke’s first time in prison. It was normal to have some first-day jitters. 

After another aggressive huff Luke began repeatedly hitting the wall as if it were a punching bag. It was equally impressive and just plain stupid. And yet, Deckard couldn’t find it in himself to look away.

“Is that it?” He found himself asking. 

“Is that all those bloated-out muscles will give you?” _Good job Deck_ , he chided himself. _Definitely not commenting on his physique because it does anything for you._ “All show and no go.”

Luke gave the wall one final punch and glared at Deckard. Then he looked around the room until he spotted what he was looking for.

For a brief moment, he disappeared, only to reappear holding his _entire concrete desk_ which he proceeded to lift like he was at the gym.

“Oh I got plenty of go.”

Deckard swallowed hard. “...yeah?”

He would have been embarrassed at how weak his voice sounded if he thought Luke had heard it. He tried to clear his throat. It felt tight all of a sudden. He tried again.

“You must have misplaced that when I kicked your arse up and down that office of yours.”

“Yeah.” Luke set down the desk like it was nothing. “Just like you Brits, rewriting history, huh?”

“All I know is it wasn’t me that was blown out of a four-story window.” Christ that must have been a helluva fall. Deckard felt his own back ache at the thought of the car breaking Luke’s fall.

“Jumped.” Luke corrected. “I _jumped_ out of a four-story window saving my partner’s life. ‘Cause where I’m from, we don’t settle fights by throwing bombs.”

If either of them were in the position to claim the moral high ground, Deckard would have pointed out that that wasn’t exactly true. He’d done his research before the two of them ever officially crossed paths. Luke Hobbs wasn’t exactly a boy scout.

“Well, that’s funny, because where I’m from, we don’t need women to run to our rescue.” He knew that wasn’t exactly true either. His sister had gotten him out of a nasty scrap once or twice. Same could be said for his mother. But Deckard was trying to aim for low blows right now. 

He held up a clenched fist. “I mean, do you really believe you can stand in front of me and beat me in a straight-up old-fashioned fistfight?”

“Let me tell you something. Me and you, one on one, with no one else around…?” Luke pressed his hands against the glass. And dammit now Deckard was wondering what it would feel like being caged in by those arms. “I will beat your ass like a Cherokee drum.”

Licking his lips, trying to regain some semblance of the bite that he’d started this fight with, Deckard shook his head. “If this is how you treat your soulmate, then I’d hate to see how you treat your friends.”

"I-- What?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I had some other projects and life stuff getting in the way. But I hope you like this update. And thank you so much for your support so far!

The next insult was on the tip of Luke’s tongue before he’d processed the other man’s words. But once he had, his mind tumbled to a halt. 

Deckard rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you didn't know."

Luke opened and shut his mouth. The wheels in his head began turning, flashing back to their first fight. After the explosion he’d woken up and everything was in color. How had he not considered Shaw?

Because soulmates were supposed to be _meant_ for each other. Them being enemies on opposite sides of the law wouldn’t have been an obvious match. In fact, if someone asked Luke who he thought his soulmate was, he probably would have answered ‘ _Anyone but Shaw_.’

When he didn’t immediately respond, Deckard huffed. "Figures. Of course my soulmate would be a complete idiot. I knew you were thick, but not _this_ thick."

“No.” Luke shook his head. “No there’s no way.”

Deckard cocked his head. “You seriously didn’t know?”

“No.” Luke shook his head, trying to think of some way this couldn’t be true.

“Seriously?” Shaw’s voice raised an octave. “What kind of idiot doesn’t eventually figure something like that out?”

“I was grieving!” Luke tried to defend himself. “They gave me a pamphlet and everything!”

Suddenly an alert sounded, and Luke’s door slid open. Both men glanced at each other in confusion.

_That can’t be good_ , Luke thought, taking a tentative step outside his cell and looking around. There was no one there, but he had the feeling that would soon change.

Looking back into his cell, he made eye contact with the security camera in the corner. He had a feeling he knew who was behind this.

“I said no Mr. Nobody!” He shouted into the camera. “I'm not leaving this cell. I'll get out my way. The right way!”

More alarms began blaring as prison guards started to arrive, crowding around his cell and brandishing taser-sticks. And none of them looked even remotely interested in hearing his side.

Luke held up his hands, hoping to at least try to reason with them. “Relax, it’s just a malfunction.” He said, backing into his room and showing he had no intention of escaping. “It’s just a malfunction.”

But none of the guards were listening. If anything, they were growing more and more agitated.

Luke swallowed as one of the men raised his taser stick. This was going to hurt.

A commotion broke out at the back of the crowd. Someone was yelling, and a second later Luke heard one of the tasers being set off.

Risking a glance over the guards bearing down on him, Luke saw Deckard drop the unconscious body of one of the men and thrust the taser into the electrical pad above his cell. In an instant, the attention was diverted from Hobbs to Shaw. And Luke was quietly relieved of that, if not a little confused.

More alarms sounded, and suddenly all the prison doors were opening, including Deckard’s.

The Brit didn’t waste time incapacitating the closest guard in front of him before beginning his escape.

"Stop him!" Luke shouted at the guards, making quick work of the ones that refused to get out of his way. "Don't let him get away!"

Five minutes ago, he would have been shouting that because Shaw was a dangerous criminal, and him being released back into the world would be a disaster for all involved.

But now his commands had more somewhat selfish motivations.

As Luke fought through the guards trying to retrain him, Deckard was already leaping off the railings and disappearing into the chaos below.

By the time he reached the same railing, every prisoner had joined into the fray, scrapping with guard and fellow inmate alike. Luke tightened his grip on the railing as he tried to spot one man amidst the sea of orange.

_There!_ Luke’s chest tightened when he finally saw him.

Deckard was looking back, almost as if he were making sure that Luke was planning on following.

And then he disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

Deckard thought getting out of prison would make his life easier. Objectively, that seemed like the obvious conclusion.

So how did he end up stuck teaming up with the very people responsible for putting him in prison in the first place?

He knew why. Because Mr. Nobody dangled Owen in front of him, knowing full-well that Deckard would never forsake his family.

But as they say, out of the frying pan…

“Captain Deckard Shaw.” Luke’s voice echoed through the garage.

And, oh yeah, his idiot soulmate was here too.

“Distinguished himself by acts of gallantry at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty.” Hobbs was standing there, in the middle of the garage, reading his file like there weren’t a bunch of people standing around. “His bold actions saved the lives of hostages and his teammates. Recommendation...The Victoria Cross.”

Deckard paused working on his car. It had been a long time since he’d seen that letter. He was actually surprised the British government still kept it on file. It seemed like they’d tried to erase him from their records entirely. Governments have a tendency to shy away from publicizing when one of their decorated soldiers goes dark. 

“The highest honor the British government has ever given… to a traitor.” Luke snapped the folder shut and stared him down. “Something about this whole thing that just doesn’t add up to me.”

Now that, they could agree on. If only Hobbs was that perceptive when it came to identifying his damn soulmate.

Deckard met his gaze. “Well that would be the same kind of funny math that says a DSS agent who has a Silver Star for valor stole an EMP.”

And yeah, maybe it was a little pathetic to research your soulmate. But Hobbs did it too, so...

“Sounds familiar, huh?” Deckard turned his attention back to his car. It didn’t go unnoticed that everyone else on Dom’s crew seemed to be getting help, either from each other of from Mr. Nobody’s staff, except for Deckard. Not that he’d expected it.

“You want to give me a hand?” He looked up from his workstation to where Luke was standing over the alternator for his car. 

Deckard knew for a fact that Hobbs could lift it on his own. He knew those muscles weren’t all for show, despite what he might have said in prison. But Deckard knew an olive branch when he saw one.

He nodded, wiping his hand with a rag. “On three?”

“Yeah.” Luke said. They bent down. “One, two, three.”

Both lifted the alternator, and Deckard had to admit, it was easier with help.

He could feel Luke itching to ask something. Probably a whole list of somethings considering this is the first conversation they’ve had unrestricted by prison cell walls. But Luke most likely also knew that now was not the time to open that pandora’s box.

“You know what, Twinkle Toes?” Deckard tilted his head, quietly noting that Luke’s eyes weren’t black, but a dark chocolate brown. “In another life, I bet me and you could have done some serious damage.”

Luke smirked. “Yeah, we could’ve.” 

He was looking at Deckard so closely, but not in a cop kind of way. Just looking. It almost felt like he was staring just as deeply into his eyes as Deckard had been. It was probably just his imagination though.

“Yeah.” Deckard nodded. “Shame I’m going to have to bounce your head off the fender when this is all over.”

He smiled to himself at the slightly surprised look on Hobbs’s face. He flicked a switch, letting the lift raise the alternator between them. But he never once stopped looking at Luke.

As if the gears in his brain finally clicked into place, Luke opened his mouth. 

“Ah, well, with all due respect Captain-” _And oh, Deckard felt a chill run down his spine when Luke used his military rank._ “-when this whole thing is over, we’re going to find a location, and I’m gonna knock your teeth so far down your throat you’re gonna stick a toothbrush right up your ass to brush ‘em.”

Deckard couldn’t fight the smile that took over his face. He couldn’t help it. That was one of the dumbest things he’d ever heard. But somehow when Hobbs said it, he could almost buy it.

Luke laughed too, and damn that smile, it was contagious. But there was something else there too. Amidst the mirth and fading suspicion, Deckard saw a flicker in Hobbs’ deep dark eyes.

Maybe it was hope.

* * *

When Dom shot Deckard, Luke felt as if the bullets had struck his own heart as well.

He’d shouted something, but he couldn’t remember what. All he could focus on was his soulmate’s body falling lifelessly to the pavement.

He felt like throwing up when he imagined the color of Deckard's blood pooling around him. Luke wasn’t close enough to see it. And he struggled against the urge to run up and try to save him. See if he _could_ save him. But Dom's shots had been fatal, and Luke didn’t want to see the life fade from Deckard’s eyes. He didn't want to lose him. Not when he’d only just found him.

But then Dom got away with the briefcase, and there was still the world to save.

No one else back at Mr. Nobody’s base mourned Deckard. In their minds he was the best-case scenario when it came to casualties.

And it killed Luke that he would have felt the exact same way only a few short days ago.

It killed him, that for the briefest of moments, he wished he still felt that way. Because that would have been easier than having to mourn a soulmate twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the angst.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys know that working a full-time job and a part-time job at the same time will literally suck up all your time and energy? Who knew?  
> I'm so sorry for keeping you all waiting so long for this chapter. I'll hopefully be able to update my other fic and possibly add some new stuff soon.  
> I hope you're all doing alright and staying safe and sane out there. <3

"I don't see why we don't just use the baby for ransom."

As if in response, the infant started to blubber and cry.

Deckard narrowed his eyes at Owen. Carefully, he unbundled the child from his carrier and began rocking him in his arms, recalling techniques that had been second nature when he was younger. The baby began to quiet almost instantly.

He spoke with a calm, steady voice. "Because we don't kidnap kids. Remember?"

Owen rolled his eyes. “Funny, I don’t remember you including that in your little code.”

“It would have followed right after ‘always get your little brother out of trouble.’” Deckard said, “Thought that would have been obvious."

The baby gurgled and gripped Deckard’s thumb, completely unaware that he almost died in a plane crash. To be fair, he probably didn’t even know what a plane was.

"And what's going to happen to you once you hand over that baby and lose your only bargaining chip?" Owen tilted his head.

"They're not going to send me back to prison." Deckard said, keeping his voice soft for the baby’s sake. He almost envied the infant for his ignorance.

"You don't actually trust these people, do you?"

"No." 

_But I trust Luke._ He'd wanted to add but swallowed it back. In reality, Deckard _wanted_ to trust Luke. He wanted them being soulmates to mean something, even though that was the exact opposite of what Deckard grew up believing.

"Did something happen?"

Owen’s question had taken Deckard off guard. He must have been thinking for too long. The Shaw siblings had always been good at reading each other. They were the only ones they could rely on for most of their childhood. Owen and Hattie were some of the only people Deckard didn’t want to keep secrets from.

“I met my soulmate.”

Now it was Owen’s turn to fall silent. He was staring out the window of the cockpit, unblinking. After a moment, his Adam's apple bobbed with a hard swallow.

"Oh?" He prompted, but his voice was taut. Most likely one name away from doing an intensive background check on Deckard's soulmate and making sure this (apparent) stranger deserved his brother. “Who is it?”

This should be good.

Deckard distracted himself by offering the baby his index finger.

"It's Luke Hobbs."

The silence was deafening now.

Calmly, Owen reached out and flicked on the autopilot for the plane. Then, oh so slowly, he turned to face Deckard, crossing his arms and leaning back. To any casual observer, he’d look relaxed. Receptive, even. But Deckard knew better.

“Hobbs.” He said, his voice rising with every breath. “Special Agent Hobbs. The man who was actively trying to hunt me down. The man who put you in prison. _That_ agent Hobbs?”

“Yeah.” There wasn’t much else Deckard could say in response to that. There was no point in denying or sugarcoating it.

“No. There’s no way.” Owen shook his head. “How the hell did that even happen?”

“It’s not like I planned it.” Deckard began rocking the baby again as the infant began to squirm. “And keep your voice down, will you?”

Owen looked like he was about to shout. Then he snapped his mouth shut, took an exaggeratedly long breath, smiled, and pressed his hands together. 

“Deck.” He spoke with a sing-song tone. “Your soulmate can’t be Agent Hobbs. He’s a _lawman_. It’s easier to list the countries you _aren’t_ considered a wanted criminal. It would never work.”

A few days ago, he probably would have agreed with Owen. But Deckard remembered the way Luke stared at him. The glimmer of hope reflecting in his deep brown eyes. Not disgust, or contempt. Just hope.

It made Deckard want to preserve that light, and not do anything that might extinguish it from Luke’s eyes. He hadn’t felt like that for a while. Deckard had grown so accustomed to the shadows; he didn’t know if he could exist in the light. But Luke made him want to try.

“I don’t know.” Deckard said. “Things feel… different now.”

“Christ.” Owen muttered and shook his head. “When did you turn into such a sap?”

 _Probably around the same time he first saw Luke smile._ Deckard thought, but figured that wouldn’t help his case. So instead, he stretched out a leg and kicked at his little brother. “Prick.”

“Arsehole.” Owen responded, his mouth quirking into a smile. But after a moment, his expression returned to a more serious one. “Don’t let him hurt you.”

“I won’t.”

“But if he does…” 

“You’ll kill him yourself,” Deckard grinned. “I know.”

* * *

Deckard was alive.

Deckard. Was. Alive. 

Luke kept repeating those three words over and over again as he drove to the rooftop barbeque.

It had been a trick. Part of a plan. Dom had figured out how to save his family but risked the life of Luke’s soulmate in the process. Not that Toretto knew that. And, then again, Dom faking the death of Luke’s soulmate was better than Dom _actually_ killing him. But Deckard was alive. That was all that mattered.

Well, almost all that mattered.

“Dad?” Luke blinked and looked to where Sam was sitting in the passenger seat. He’d debated taking her with him. But he didn’t want to spend any more time separated from her. And more importantly, he wanted her to meet Deckard. 

Sam was his everything. And Luke wanted his soulmate to feel the same way. Otherwise, this wouldn’t work.

“What’s up sweetie?” Luke offered a smile.

She’d probably picked up on how quiet he had been during the whole drive. She was smart. Sometimes too smart for her own good. Or at least, too smart for Luke to keep things from her.

She fidgeted with her seatbelt. "Is something wrong?"

Luke felt a weight lift from his chest. For the first time in a while, the answer wouldn’t be ‘yes.’ He glanced over at her with a smile. “Nah, sweetie. Nothing wrong. But there is something I want to tell you. Something kind of big.”

Sam straightened up and turned to face him.

“Do you remember that flyer you found, about not having a soulmate?” 

Sam nodded.

Luke breathed in, fighting off the butterflies that suddenly appeared in his chest. _Butterflies_. Like he was a teenager talking about a crush. “Well, as it turns out, I found mine.” 

“What?” Sam sat up straighter, straining against her seat belt. “Dad that’s awesome! Who is it?”

The nerves turned a little sour then. This was going to be a tough conversation, especially for a kid.

"You remember that big bad guy I helped Toretto take down a while back? 

Sam paused in thought. "The one that blew up your friend’s house, so you dropped a building on him?"

Luke winced, thinking about the number of times Deckard could have been killed during just those few days. He could have died, and Luke would never have known they were soulmates.

"That's the one." Luke said.

He glanced at Sam, wanting to see her face. Sometimes his chest ached with how much he loved his daughter. He didn't want to put too much on her too soon. And telling her about his soulmate—and his soulmate being someone like Shaw—felt like a lot.

Sam was staring at him, her little brow furrowed in confusion in a way that reminded him of his mom. And that made his chest ache too. "What does that guy have to do with your soulmate?"

Luke took another deep breath. "Well, as it turns out he _is_ my soulmate. We just didn't realize it until recently."

He left out the part where Deckard knew all along. That was a conversation Luke still wanted to have with the Brit.

He waited patiently for her to process what he said.

"But," Sam's face continued to scrunch up. "But he's a bad guy, isn't he? How could someone like that be your soulmate?"

Her voice was filled with concern.

"I thought the same thing when I first found out." Luke said. "But it's like your teacher said about not judging a book by its cover. I did some research and found out he wasn't as bad as I thought. He's done bad things, like blowing up your dad's office, but he's not a bad guy. He actually used to be considered something of a hero, probably rescued the Queen’s corgis and everything.”

Sam didn’t look entirely convinced, but the bit about the corgis at least eased away some of those worry-lines on her forehead.

They drove in silence for a while. Luke didn’t want to make her feel pressured to respond, although he would give anything to know what she was thinking.

“Do you like him, though?”

The question surprised him. Sam was of the age that she and her friends still believed in the magic of soulmates. And maybe they were right. Maybe adults were the ones who got it wrong in viewing the phenomenon with such skepticism.

Finding your soulmate certainly doesn’t solve all your problems, but ideally you’d then have someone to help with them. And there were few people more capable of handling problems than Deckard. 

Did he like Deckard Shaw?

If Sam had asked that question a week ago the answer would have been no.

But maybe that's why he trusted his gut. Because it wasn't the world turning colors that made him love Shaw. In fact, Luke tried very hard to justify his dislike for his soulmate when he first found out. But the more he learned about Deckard, the more Luke began to fall for the man.

He was a man betrayed by the government he swore his allegiance to, who's need for revenge was fueled by a love for his family. What part of that deserved hatred?

Did he like Deckard Shaw?

"I do." Luke finally answered. And he meant it. 'Like' wasn't too strong a word to use for how he felt about Deckard. It was cautious, more hopeful than anything else.

He and Shaw hadn't gotten off to a good start with one another, and there was a lot to work and talk through before they could really begin to build anything together (if Deckard even _wanted_ to). But Luke wanted to try.

Sam nodded, apparently satisfied with his response. Then, "Is he going to be at the barbeque?"

"He is." Luke said, then smiled. "I wanted you to meet him and get a read on him for me. See what you think."

Sam smiled, and nodded a little more enthusiastically this time. She turned to look out the windshield, as if staring at the road would make them get there faster.

* * *

Deckard gripped the railing of the stairwell with one hand, while the other gripped the handle of the baby carrier.

He had faced down terrorist organizations, shut down human trafficking rings, and completed mission that only he, the royal family, and whatever god was watching knew about.

And yet, he was having a difficult time just walking up the last flight of stairs and walking through the door that led up to the rooftop barbeque. 

He’d considered leaving the baby here and contacting Dom once he was far enough away. But…

Deckard glanced down at the baby, who was staring up at him while happily chewing on the little union jack boxing gloves he’d given him.

The thought of leaving the baby alone, even for a moment felt even more impossible than walking through that door.

“Come on,” He sighed. “We’d better get you back to your dad. A lot of people are excited to see you.” He spoke softly. Taking one step after the other while trying not to think about the person who was probably hoping to see him too.

The door gave way to a beautiful sunlit rooftop with garden boxes surrounding the ledges. But that was about as much time as he had to enjoy the scenery before he spotted Hobbs.

The larger man was standing off to the side talking with Mr. Nobody and his inexperienced little assistant. 

Dom approached him before Deckard could decide whether or not to greet Hobbs. And by the time he was done handing off the baby, Luke had stepped away to look out at the city. His back was turned, and it would have been so easy to slip away. But Deckard found himself waiting for something, although he didn’t know what.

“Hi.”

Deckard had sensed someone sneaking up on him, but he wasn’t expecting a child.

Her eyes were slightly narrowed in scrutiny. It was a strangely familiar look. Add that to her dark complexion, and Deckard was quick to surmise who she was.

“Hello.” He answered. “You must be Samantha Hobbs.”

“Sam.” She corrected, looking him up and down in a way she probably copied from a teacher or her father. “You’re Deckard Shaw.”

She didn’t ask him how he knew who she was. And it amused Deckard that she threw his full name right back at him. “Your dad invite you along?”

“Yeah. He wanted me to meet you.”

“Oh?” Deckard glanced over to Luke, who was suspiciously still keeping his back to the conversation. He was a distance away, but he could probably still hear him. Deckard was surprised. He hadn’t expected the Hobbs family to orchestrate an ambush.

He smiled and turned his attention back to Sam. “I’m glad. I’d wanted to meet you too. I assume you’ve got questions.”

“Mmh hmm. You blew up my dad’s office.” Sam said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes…” 

“Did you mean to hurt him?” Her eyes were homed in on his face, tracking every micro-expression. Now was not the time to lie or soften the truth.

“Yes.” Deckard answered. “At the time.”

Sam wasn’t blinking. “Do you regret it?” She tilted her head to the side, awaiting a response.

Deckard once again considered his response. It wasn’t an easy answer, and he wasn’t going to treat it like one.

“No.” He said finally. “I was trying to avenge my family at the time, and I’ll never regret that.” He paused. “But I promise I’ll never do something like it again.”

Silence hung between the two of them as Sam weighed his words. After a moment, she nodded. “Okay.”

She crooked her finger, gesturing for Deckard to lean in closer, which he obliged. “He’s been checking the time waiting for you to show up.” She whispered.

When Deckard leaned back, she was grinning up at him.

He passed the test. Deckard smiled. 

“Best not keep him waiting then.” He whispered back.

* * *

Luke hoped he was playing it cool. The truth was he could barely keep himself from fidgeting while listening as Sam talked with Shaw.

She had the final word. If she didn’t like him then he and Deckard wouldn’t have a future together. Soulmate or not.

There was whispering now. Luke strained his ears but couldn’t pick up much. He was so focused on trying to listen in on the conversation, that he didn’t even notice the body that appeared next to him.

"Hey." Luke blurted out, kicking himself for not thinking of something better.

But Deckard smiled at him anyway. "Hey." He answered back, and Luke could swear he was mimicking his tone.

“So, you’re alive.” And this time he didn’t mind that he couldn’t think of something better to say, because Deckard was here. 

“Yeah, didn’t stick.” Shaw said. Although he had the decency to look guilty. He looked away for a moment. “I probably should have told you.”

Luke pursed his lips and fiddled with his drink. He usually wasn’t a fan of the beer Dom favored. But right now, he was just grateful to have something to keep his hands busy. Otherwise he might do something stupid. “You really had me worried there.”

“Aw, you’re aware we’re soulmates for barely a day and you’re already that attached?” Deckard asked, trying to lighten the mood. But his grin faltered somewhat at Luke’s serious expression.

“I thought I didn’t have a soulmate." Luke said. "Or that something had happened to them. And when I realized it was you…” His mouth turned up into a smile. “Well, I needed a little time to think things over, but you somehow managed to worm your way under my skin. I wanted to see where this could go. I had… hope. And then I thought I lost you.”

He was staring at Deckard, trying to read his expression. He had that same glint in his eyes that was present at Mr. Nobody’s garage. He hoped he was saying the right thing.

"When Dom told me you were alive I didn't know whether to cry or kill you myself." Luke shook his head. "I was so mad at you."

"I was mad," Deckard was looking out at the city. "when I found out we were soulmates. Although I didn't quite know who I was more angry with. Myself, for even momentarily hoping that it meant something. Or your stupid meathead for apparently not caring at all." 

Luke couldn't help but smile. "I guess we were both pretty stupid."

"Eh, you a little more so." Deckard shrugged and turned back to him. The way he smiled made Luke think Shaw hadn't had a reason to smile for a long time.

"Your daughter's a real firecracker." Deckard said, glancing over his shoulder to where Sam was walking over to the other adults.

Luke followed his gaze toward his daughter. He took a minute to compose his thoughts. "We're a package deal, you know." He waited until Shaw was facing him again to continue. "Soulmate or not, I want someone in my life who can care about my kid as much as I do."

Deckard tilted his head in thought. Luke knew this wasn't a small thing to ask. It was a huge commitment. One that would potentially affect him for the rest of his life.

"Having a family was never realistic in my line of work. Too dangerous. Too much of a liability." He began. He was facing Hobbs, but his eyes were focused on some far-off place. "But that didn't keep me from still thinking about it. And if there was anyone who I wouldn't have to worry about staying safe, it'd be you."

Deckard smiled. "Sam's a great kid. I'd be happy to help make sure she stays safe."

A weight was lifted from Luke's chest. "Good." He nodded, trying to keep the smile that was spreading across his face under control. "Great."

"Just so you know, if we're going to make this work, you're going to have to get used to my family too." Deckard added nonchalantly.

Luke tilted his head back and groaned. But there was no real malice in his tone. "Right, I almost forgot about your kleptomaniac brother."

"Don't forget my mum. She keeps herself busy too."

"Please stop. I'd like to hold onto whatever plausible deniability I have left."

Deckard snorted and glanced over the rooftop. "Didn't realize you were still holding onto something like that, especially with the company you keep."

"Hey now," Luke nudged. "I don't think you have any room to judge."

Deckard nudged back with a smile, making the beer in Luke's bottle slosh as he brought it up to his lips.

This was the longest they'd ever talked. It was nice. The more time Luke spent with Deckard, the more right it felt.

“Didn’t you say something about finding us a location once all this was over?” Deckard tilted his head.

Luke choked on his drink. He stared at Shaw. There was a playful spark in his eye that ignited a fire in his belly.

He glanced around at everyone else on the rooftop. Dom was busy introducing Letty to his son, and Sam was talking excitedly with Ramsey. He could slip away for a bit without anyone noticing.

Luke nodded, and quickly guided them over to the entrance to the stairwell. 

He felt like a teenager sneaking away to do something bad. And, well, Shaw had been considered a _bad_ guy for a while, so maybe that wasn't too far from the truth.

* * *

They’d only managed to get down one flight of stairs before Deckard’s patience ran out. He grabbed Luke and pulled the larger man into a kiss. Hobbs happily obliged and pressed Deckard into the concrete wall behind him. Their combined body heat crowded around them as their hands explored and grasped for purchase.

Luke’s hands were huge, wrapping around Deckard’s shoulders and sliding down his body until they settled on his hips. He held him so tight Deckard was sure he’d find bruises tomorrow. Luke most likely wanted to guarantee he wasn't going to slip away again. But Deckard wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

One of Luke's hands released its hold so he could use it to brace against the wall. His other hand that was still cupping his ass pulled him closer, grinding Deckard's groin into Luke's.

Deckard groaned. He liked this. He liked being caged in and pulled flush against Luke's muscular body. He liked the strength and urgency that seemed to fuel the other man as they ground against each other, not once breaking the kiss.

Deckard had been strangled to the point of suffocation before. More than once.

In his line of work the experience wasn't completely out of the ordinary, though he tried to avoid it.

It was a terrifying experience, feeling his pulse hammer against his skull. And with every heartbeat, every withheld breath of air, his vision would blur and darken more and more until there was only a pitch-black nothingness. Never knowing if he'd wake up again.

Being kissed by Luke felt like the polar opposite of that.

With every moan and touch, every withheld breath because his mouth was doing something more important than breathing, Deckard's world pulsed with color.

Beautiful, unfamiliar color that he wondered if he'd even get used to.

Luke broke the kiss and rested his forehead on Deckard's shoulder. His breathing came out in shallow pants with each breath warming and tickling Deckard’s neck.

"Holy shit." He gasped.

"Yeah." Deckard breathed, and now it was his turn to be speechless.

As their breathing evened out, Deckard slowly ran his hands up and down Luke's back.

He had a soulmate.

Even though it had been a while since he'd blown up Luke Hobbs' office and started seeing color, it hadn't quite felt real until now.

They didn't really have the traditional experience of when you meet your soulmate. But they got there eventually. Maybe that made it more real, in a way.

He and Luke didn't automatically fall into all those romantic cliches where they ignored all their flaws and problems and pretended like those issues didn't exist anymore. They'd circled and eventually fallen into one another in a way that felt genuine. Deckard hadn't had to turn into another person for Luke to want him.

That had to be a good thing.

"We're going to have to get ourselves under control before we head back up there." Luke whispered. His breathing had evened out, but their close proximity told Deckard the larger man was far from _under control_.

"Well," Deckard's hand began to trail down to Luke's belt. "We could always take care of things here before…"

But Luke grabbed his wrist before he could reach his target. Although the groan that escaped his lips seemed to suggest stopping Deckard was the last thing Luke wanted.

"Princess, we are not having our first time in a stairwell."

"First time?" Deckard tilted his head with a grin. "Sorry to break it to you Love, but this would be far from my first time."

Luke flicked Deckard's ear. "You know what I mean."

"Spoilsport." He sent back, enjoying the way Luke smiled in response. That grin was addicting.

Their breathing had returned to its normal rhythm, and they were both about ready to return to the rooftop, but Deckard could sense that neither of them wanted to end this moment just yet.

"So," Luke began, resituating himself so he was leaning against the wall beside Deckard close enough that they were still touching. "Besides your little brother, are there any other crazy family members I gotta keep an eye out for?"

Deckard leaned his head against the cool concrete, considering how much he wanted to get into right now. "I have a younger sister too. But you’d like her. Despite all odds she managed to stay on your side of the law."

"Thanksgiving must be fun for you guys."

Deckard batted at his chest. "We don’t celebrate that Holiday, remember?"

"Right, right." Luke nodded. "You guys only do Boxing Day, the Queen's birthday, and celebrate the anniversary of when the crumpet was invented, right?"

"Keep that up and you'll have my mum to worry about too, twinkle-toes." Deckard warned, but the amusement in his tone diminished the threat.

"Oh, so there's a _mom_ I have to worry about too? I don't know Shaw; this is sounding a little too high maintenance for my taste."

"Yeah well, you're stuck with me." Deckard smiled up at Luke. He was planning on saying something else absolutely devastating when Luke leaned down and kissed him again. 

It wasn't hungry or desperate like their first kiss. More confident and patient. When Luke broke away, he said, "I'm not stuck with anything I don't want to be stuck with."

It was so stupid and cheesy. And it made Deckard's heart flip in his chest and a blush spread across his face. And considering the smug grin he was sporting, Luke had noticed.

"Sap." Deckard batted at Luke’s chest, trying to regain a little of his usual gruff composure.

Luke slung an arm around his shoulders and began leading him back to the rooftop. “That I am, Princess. You’ll just have to get used to it.”

Deckard slid his arm around Luke’s waist and smiled to himself. He was looking forward to getting used to Luke Hobbs.

* * *

  
The rest of the day passed in a blur for Luke. A happy, booze-filled blur with Deckard never too far away. While he was talking with Ramsey nearby, Dom sidled up next to Luke.

“So, what’s going on between you too?”

Luke hesitated. “You noticed, huh?”

Dom glanced over at the Brit. “I noticed that when he’s not by your side, he always keeps himself in your line of sight.”

Luke thought back, realizing Dom’s observation was correct. Even if it was just in his peripherals, Shaw was there. Apparently, Luke had gained himself a shadow. The thought was unexpectedly comforting.

“We’re soulmates.”

Luke considered coming up with some bogus explanation, but if Deckard was going to be part of his family, that meant he was going to be part of the crew too.

Dom didn’t respond immediately. But his typical stoicism slowly crumbled into an amused grin. “Damn.” Dom said. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“But you’re going to try and make it work?” There was genuine curiosity in his voice. Hobbs and Shaw certainly seemed like an unlikely pair to an outside observer, but Luke never shied away from improbable odds.

He smiled. “Yeah, we’re both too stubborn to be the one to back down first.” Catching Toretto’s concerned glance, Luke shook his head. “We’re fine. We actually have more in common that I thought.”

Dom continued to stare him down for a moment before giving a satisfied nod. “Just don’t kill each other.”

As if sensing he was being discussed, Deckard glanced over to Luke. They met eyes, and Shaw tilted his head slightly in question.

Luke’s smile softened. He nodded. Everything was fine.

“You won’t have to worry about that.”

Later when it came time to say grace Luke closed his eyes, feeling Shaw give his hand a light squeeze. 

He knew that once Dom was finished saying grace, Luke would open his eyes and see a world adorned in color. He would see a group of people who cared about him. But most importantly, he would see Deckard.

He would see his soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all your support for this story. Hope you liked the ending! <3


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